What The Grammies are for…

 

Let’s return the favor and send our own balloon to China.

Everybody’s pretending to be shocked. Did you correctly guess which of these is which g****r? I didn’t try, don’t care, not shocked.

Try your hand with these American pop icons. 

That wasn’t Breitbart’s first crack at the Grammies story. That was here, right up top, more newsworthy as you can see than hundreds dead in 9.1 earthquake in Turkey and another sly slam at Trump over Chi-Balloons (assuming what is not in evidence, kind of like talent at the Grammies).

But as I said, us good people still want to be shocked. Even Twitter wants to play. (A long, long article at Gateway Pundit eventually leading after a decade of popups to the offending Twitter clip.)

Which looks more like this in closeup:

If our media mentors had any respect for us, all this coverage would be far less coverage and it would be far less sensational. You expect us to be shocked, you want us to be shocked, as if that’s our best virtue signal to ourselves and, ahem, to them, our better educated, more sophisticated Talking Points spokesthings on the right.

I guarantee you they’re not shocked. Woke is nothing new. The same old delight in darkest wicked fantasies and behaviors have always been there. I can’t speak for sure about just how naive the under-50s are about all this ridiculous parading around we see on awards shows in particular. For me and my peers, it’s all tease, hearkening back to the days of comedy TV like Laugh-in and The Smothers Brothers, whose saving grace was that they knew it was a joke: “Look at how easily we can get you worked up by showing you faux tits-and-ass that are this close to the real thing. And how close we can get to seeming to do provocative political commentary by getting Richard Nixon to say “Sock it to me” on national TV?

None of the actual content of the Woke crap is new. The only thing that’s new is the sick obsession with making it officially a Truth that transcends all our training and education to the contrary. The Grammies show gets better Nielsen ratings than the drag shows spreading through elementary school classrooms. Pretending that awards shows are a scandal is a kind of misdirection that does not serve the intended audience. The awards shows? How close are they to being effective mouthpieces for The New Truth of Woke Consensus about the evils of religion and the nonexistence of sin? Nowhere close. Why Nolte keeps reporting to us on how few people watch.

The Grammies. No BFD. Its immodesties can’t hold a candle to Reform School Girls, Chained Heat, or the long line of Drive-in boob movies made for a post-adolescent audience of mostly white boys. The leering sexual innuendo is nothing compared to dozens, hundreds, of movies, songs, and books ranging from frank comedy (Myra Breckinridge, The Bird Cage) to a mini-boom in open enjoyment of movie length pornography (Deep Throat, Behind the Green Door) to talented attempts at gay conversion (The Fox, Satyricon, Brokeback Mountain) and transgender understanding (The Christine Jorgensen Story, The Crying Game) to ultimately explicit depictions of real-life End-of-the-World hells in recorded history featuring incest, pedophilia, and human trafficking of every kind (The Damned, Caligula). 

Who’s being naive here? Little Zuckie (whose Instagram is implicated in all kinds of perverse sexual cottage industries) is actually trying to make it a violation of Community Standards to show an image of a female breast. The absurdity of this is commented on nowhere but here. At the other end of the woke shock-seeking world, private corporations, advertising agencies, streaming services, are determined — in a complementary strategy for putting women back into the box they’ve been escaping from since the Victoriana Zuckerberg prefers (when the quaint term ‘Vapours’ was used as a euphemism for corset-caused flatulence) — to show us all the least attractive details of female physicality, including pooping, peeing in diapers, vaginal odor, menstruating with and without mitigating capitalist pig technologies, language from the women’s locker room that is often cruder than the men’s, and the sudden deifying of female teenage monsters whose brains cease to function above the reptilian level as soon as they have their first period. Speaking of which, with all the Lizzos and the faux topless Beyonces, menopausal Madonnas, and indeterminate Kims flashing their motley wares on this stage, when is the last time men really mattered at the Grammies except as punchlines?

To what end? Certainly not for the betterment of women, who are just a symbol in all this, a niche victim being thrown under the bus now that white men have already been done in. What woke really hates is humankind. We are animals. We need to be controlled just the way we control pigs, cattle, horses, and lab rats. Children are no more sacred than they are in the rest of nature, preempted from life where unwanted by mass castration and infant slaughter. They are just another resource for the high tech machine being designed and implemented to run everything in perpetuity for the benefit of who? Who indeed? These brave new thinkers are behaving exactly like the despots of the past they pretend to be superior to — warlords, kings, fuehrers, Indian Chiefs, shoguns, emperors, and most perfectly perhaps, Caesars.

Who out there (who’s old enough) wasn’t curious to see Caligula when the Penthouse guy managed to seduce most of the great actors and actresses in Great Briton to humiliate themselves in a biography of one of the most despicable people who ever lived? A movie so beyond the pale that it couldn’t even be rated. X wasn’t strong enough. It just lived in somehow available here and there limbo, where it continues to reside today.

Want to see it? I went looking for a clip some years back to see if something I remembered had actually been in the movie. At a distance of years I couldn’t believe Helen Mirren would ever participate in a film scene that showed her giving birth, stark naked, sweaty, and blood-drenched in a birthing chair, surrounded by hundreds of stars, extras,  and production crew. It is part of the movie. She did it. I saw what I saw. YouTube won’t show it. But they show almost everything else. I included the anecdote because I want you to understand even the on-again off-again YouTube version is still an edit-job. If you can get it to play. (Which, to be honest, is not automatic.) It was there when I started writing this post. Not sure now. Look or don’t. It’s none of my business. Here’s the original trailer at least:

Ancient Beto or Buttijig foretelling our future? You tell me.

ADDENDUM: Female recording stars of the past who would have jeered the loudest at last night’s pop star joke of an awards show if you’d played it for them back in their day…

Wendy O. Williams of the Plasmatics, star of ‘Reform School

Girls,’ and THE filthiest mouth in ‘girl pop’ history.

Patti Smith, onetime groupie, who worked her 

way up to center stage the hard way.

Janis Joplin, unsurpassed firebrand vocalist, whose legendary bad girl 

exploits are still recounted today, long after her drug overdose death.

Funny, but their moments in the klieg lights came and went and nothing of their political philosophies (if they had any) is remembered, memorialized, or studied. All that remains are their songs and quite unusual life stories. They were pop stars of their day, just like the pretenders of the 2023 Grammies show, if not so flatulent (reference intended). Their meaning is what it always should be, personal, individual, and specific to what they left behind for those who still listen to their music, not what they espoused in promotional interviews and Tweets about themselves. When’s the last time you listened to “Material Girl”?) Something for the Wokesters to think about as they proceed with their own aging into inevitable oblivion.